


Quarantine

by Bellatrix_Wannabe_89



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Modern AU, Past Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Quarantine, Two People One Bed, Which means past canon typical abuse, lots of eventual smut, yall knew it was coming...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:01:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23180614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellatrix_Wannabe_89/pseuds/Bellatrix_Wannabe_89
Summary: Jaime and Brienne work together. Jaime and Brienne go on a business trip together. Jaime and Brienne have to be quarantined for two weeks together. Jaime and Brienne are convinced they’re going to be absolutely miserable while stuck together. Jaime and Brienne are DEFINITELY fucking by the end of their third day together. Jaime and Brienne are also 100% falling in love by the time they go home.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 31
Kudos: 186





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N yes I’m a terrible person. But…. come on. It had to be done.

“I can’t believe this,” Jaime grumbled as he and Brienne shuffled forward in the abysmally long line, suitcases in hand. “Two weeks stuck in the most boring city in the world in a hotel that probably won't even serve a decent continental breakfast.”

“It’s a pandemic, Jaime, they’re not even putting out a buffet period much less what you would call a decent one,” the big blonde beside him answered without looking up from her phone. A beat and then, “Kingslanding just announced they’re shutting down all the bars.”

“Well at least the people down there will be as miserable as we are up here.”

He quickly glanced over at her to see if his comment made her smile. It did. A small flickering one but a smile nonetheless. Although it wasn’t like he _really_ cared about her opinion. Well… outside of their work, that is. They were the two top earners for the highest grossing ad consulting firm in Kingslanding. From the day she was hired she was a thorn in his side.

A brilliant articulate stubborn thorn that he could now no longer imagine being without, but a thorn nonetheless. She challenged his ideas freely where others were afraid to (being the son of the CEO and brother of the CFO tended to install a healthy bit of fear among the rabble) and he would give as good as she got regarding her suggestions he felt was subpar to the point. They argued, they bickered, more than once they had gotten into a shouting match that made newer employees worried that security might be called on them, but at the end of the day their back and forth challenges resulted in sheer and utter brilliance.

Even on the road they worked flawlessly together. Outside of the office Brienne was shy, often blushing at the smallest compliment or perceived embarrassment, especially when it was around people she didn’t know, and she would find herself stumbling over the ideas she formed so well on paper and around Jaime. So he would explain the concept to the clients, all flashy showmanship with a cutting smile and dazzling handsome features, allowing the client to believe a man as handsome and rich and powerful as Jaime Lannister would absolutely use and buy their product (so long as they listened to their ideas). Then Brienne would come in and calmly and concisely explain the numbers, the finances it would take, the focus group percentages, and her articulate voice putting them at ease about their hard earned money being spent.

So far since his father started sending him and Brienne out all around Westeros and Essos, they had closed all but one of the deals, and that was only because Jaime had gotten into a bar fight with the client after the close.

It was customary for the two of them to take their clients out for a drink after a deal had been struck, and while in Harrenhal their client had gotten drunk and increasingly inappropriate with Brienne all night. Jaime noticed how uncomfortable she was getting so he whispered to her that they would leave as soon as he returned from the restroom. He came back just in time to see Locke force his lips against Brienne, ignoring her cries of protest. Long story short Jaime ended up with a dislocated wrist, Brienne's nose was broken and Locke had to spend a week in a hospital due to an infection from the tall blonde biting his ear. 

Needless to say his company did not go with their campaign.

Here in Winterfell though things had gone swimmingly. They met with Ned Stark who loved their idea for a whole social media makeover for ‘Direwolf Snowmobiles’, to bring them into the 21st century rather than be a replica of ages past. They went back to their hotel rooms, they would normally go out but with the pandemic happening the three of them decided celebrating on their own would be best. The next day they checked out and were on their way to the airport when they got word that all flights to and from major cities were grounded thanks to the pandemic that had gripped the world. Not to mention before they even got to the airport Ned called them and told them his assistant Jory had tested positive. The same assistant who got both Jaime and Brienne a cup of coffee.

So, with nothing but enough clothes and hygiene products for a three day trip, they quickly made their way back to the hotel where, it seemed, the rest of the frozen city had the same idea, and the hotel they choose had a line going out the door.

So much for social distancing.

“I can’t believe we’re trapped in Winterfell,” Jaime grumbled again as they took another step towards the busy counter. They only had one more person to go ahead of them. “Not just trapped here but trapped in a hotel room at that. What are we supposed to do for two weeks straight?”

“Work,” Brienne said as she pocketed her phone. “Sleep, play cards, read, watch tv…”

“Gods I’m pretty sure I died of boredom just from having to listen to that.” He ignored her annoyed glare. “I wonder if my father can use his jet to get us out of here.”

“We had direct contact, Jaime,” she reminded him in a hushed whisper. “It’d be irresponsible of us to go back to Kingslanding. We’re staying here and waiting it out.”

“Do you have to be so diligent and responsible all the time?”

“Yes.”

This time it was his turn to flicker a smile at her. Before he could say anything in response it was their turn at the desk in front of a haggard receptionist.

“We need two rooms, please,” Brienne informed her as she pulled out the company credit card and handed it over. “For two weeks.”

The woman quickly typed something in her computer and groaned, running her hand through her frazzled hair before she looked back up at them, bracing for the impact. “We have one room left.” 

A loud roar of groans, curses and outrage came from the patrons behind them. Almost at once people were hurrying out of the building and grabbing their phones to try to make reservations elsewhere. 

“I’m sorry but we need two rooms,” Brienne told her in a rather panicked tone she failed to hide.

“We have one room available,” the receptionist repeated,leaving no room for argument. “Everything else is booked and filled.”

“Well that’s entirely unacceptable. We need two rooms.”

“Stop arguing and just book it,” Jaime sighed, rubbing his temples. He was tired. They both were as a matter of fact, they had been up since 7 AM this morning and it had been an exhausting long day. “The whole city will be filled up by the time we find another.”

Brienne gnawed at her plump lip before she turned back to the haggard receptionist and gave her a curt nod. A few more clicks of the keyboard and then she reached behind her and grabbed two keycards. 

“Room 319,” the receptionist announced, sliding them over to them. “The hotel management asks that you stay in your room for the duration of your quarantine unless absolutely necessary. The dining area is closed, but the kitchens will remain open during their normal business hours for room service only.”

“Yeah that sounds great, I’m gonna need a large bottle of Dornish red sent up to the room as soon as possible,” Jaime told her as he pocketed the room key.

“Of course, Sir.”

He turned towards Brienne whose sullen scowls did nothing for her plain, almost homely face. “Oh come on, Tarth, don’t look so glum,” he told her as they made their way up to the room. She tossed another ignored glare at her co-worker. “This could be fun, we can talk, we can drink, we can hammer out the details of the Arryn account...”

That last option did seem to lift her spirits some. If there was one thing that could make Brienne Ofla Tarth happy, it was the prospect of being overly prepared for a meeting. He put his keycard in the door and waited for the tiny click and green light to come on. “Besides,” Jaime chuckled as he opened the door to their new home for the next two weeks. “It’s not like there’s only gonna be one bed.”

“Oh you have _got_ to be kidding me,” Brienne grumbled as she looked at the scarce hotel room which included a tv, a desk with a computer chair, one overstuffed armchair, two night stands with two identical lamps and alarm clocks, and one queen sized bed in the middle of it.

Jaime had to bite back a laugh as he watched her blue eyes narrow in a stubborn determination. She handed off her suitcase to him and stomped away back towards the elevators. When she was out of sight he finally allowed himself a laugh as he rolled the two bags inside and shut the door behind him. He kicked off his shoes and jumped up on the bed, putting his hands behind his head and allowing himself a moment to relax, wondering how long it would take his quarantine companion to accept the circumstances. 

It took the inevitable situation longer than he thought to defeat her. Twenty minutes later she slumped back into the room, headfast confidence replaced by dismal defeat.

“This is the only room,” she repeated what the receptionist told them both. “And there’s no extra cots or beds in storage.”

The strange rush of relief flooded him as he informed her not only would they be staying in the same room but her attempts to separate them even a little bit had failed. 

She looked at the bed as if it were a cobra poised to strike her and Jaime patted the blanket next to her with a suggestive smirk. “Plenty of room if you wanna lay down.”

Her face turned a brilliant shade of crimson that he was sure hadn’t existed before just now and she bowed her head to avoid the light gleaming in his eyes. She muttered that she was going to take a shower and without so much as another word, she turned on her heel and headed into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind her. Jaime laughed and spread out in the bed as he flipped through the channels on the TV. 

Maybe this quarantine thing wasn’t going to be as bad as he thought it would be…

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	2. Chapter 2

“I never should have sent you and Tarth up to the frozen wasteland.”

“Funny because I seem to recall Brienne and I saying the same thing,” Jaime mused as he took a sip of the wine, doing his best to pretend the dark look on Tywin's face didn’t phase him. Even while he was just a face on a laptop screen he had the uncanny ability to make his children uncomfortable.

“Don’t get cute, Jaime.” The all encompassing answer to most of his eldest sons comments that Tywin said at least fifteen times a week. “It went from eleven cases to 113 in a week, no one could have predicted the whole country would go on lock down or how serious it would get.”

_ Brienne did _ , he thought to himself, taking another sip of the sour red. She had been the first one to tell Tywin it probably wasn’t a good idea for them to fly, no matter how cheap the tickets were, she had been the first one to suggest they should have had the Stark meeting on Skype, she had been the first one to send her secretary Podrick home with pay to self quarantine for as long as it took for this to blow over… Jaime just followed in her footsteps when he realized it wasn’t just media fear mongering. Of course it took the now widow of his favorite college professor Author Dayne posting the death announcement on Weirbook to get him to realize just how bad it was, but he in turn saw the light and sent home Peck before joining Brienne in asking Tywin not to send them to Winterfell.

But his father had insisted on the face to face meeting, calling the disease and the self-quarantine guidelines nothing more than a hoax and saying that everything would blow over in a week or two when no one else got sick and the world realized they had been duped.

Two weeks later here they were. At the edge of the world. In a bore of a city that prided itself on its low corporate influence meaning there was hardly any Dragonbucks anywhere. And they were stuck here for two weeks.

“The whole worlds gone as mad as a Targaryen,” Tywin continued. “Grounding all the flights like people don’t have important things to get done.”

“You have your own private jet,” Jaime reminded him. “If you really needed to go somewhere you could.”

“It’s the principle of the matter,” he answered sharply in that same way that always made Jaime feel like he was the stupidest man alive. “You don’t take a fundamental freedom away just because a few people who are too lazy to work themselves up out of poverty might come down with the flu.” Jaime decided not to mention that just that afternoon the famous Highgarden Vodka heiress Margaery Tyrell posted that she was sick. “Speaking of the jet, do you want me to send it down to collect you and Tarth?”

He wanted to say yes. If he had to be quarantined he’d rather it be in his own apartment smack dab in the middle of Red Keep, the most expensive and luxurious part of the city where at least the take out would be decent, he would have his top of the line entertainment system, he would have his king size feather bed, his private gym and all the other comforts of home.

But on the other hand…

He heard the shower turn off in the next room. Jaime watched as the door opened a tiny fraction and he smiled as a lone pale wet arm reached out, felt around for her suitcase and pulled it quickly back in when she realized it wasn’t in grabbing distance.

“Starks assistant tested positive.” Jaime set the half empty wineglass on the nightstand next to him as he told Tywin the same excuse Brienne gave him when he had the same idea earlier. “It’s safer if we just stay here rather than go back to Kingslanding.”

“Don’t you go getting sick,” Tywin warned, as if his son was threatening to go and do just that simply to spite his father. “The stock option already took a 4% plunge. If word gets out my son is ill it’ll dip even lower and we can’t afford to take another hit.”

“Well we certainly wouldn’t want that,” he said dryly, telling himself that Tywin's utter lack of affection no longer stung. The lock in the bathroom clicked and Jaime glanced over at the blonde who emerged wearing only a thick white towel that came down a little ways past her ass. “Anyway, Father, I’m gonna get going. Brienne and I will email all the paperwork on the Stark deal tomorrow then we’ll get started on the Arryn proposal.”

“Good. Let Tarth know she isn’t allowed to get sick either, I won’t have half of my best team out because of this foolishness.”

Jaime had to bite back a chuckle as he watched her face go crimson with blush at the compliment. His father may have been a sexist old fashioned arrogant ass, but he recognized talent when he saw it. 

“I’ll let her know. See you in two weeks.”

Without so much as a goodbye Tywin hung up the FaceTime call and Jaime shut his laptop closed before he turned to the woman rummaging through her bag. “He says you aren’t allowed to get sick.”

“I heard.” She pulled out a set of clothes and straightened out to turn to him. “On your next call you should let him know I’ll try my best but I can’t make any promises.”

He was doing his absolute best to keep his eyes on her eyes. Beads of water were running down her impossibly long legs, and her wet hair was slicked back away from her face. Her arms and legs were all solid cords of hard muscles like she had been carved from marble and water gathered in the crevice in her long neck and slowly dripped down her chest and between the meager breasts hidden by the towel. 

This was the most skin he had ever seen from his co-worker. She wore slacks and blouses to the office, then jeans and shirts when they went out to celebrate. The only time he ever saw her in a dress had been the office Christmas party. It was blue with no cleavage to speak of and just form fitting enough to let others know it had been tailored specifically for her but not so tight that it was obscene or inappropriate for the gathering. It was a simple sleeveless sheath that came an inch or so past her knees that she paired with black stockings, and modest heels but the coloring went beautifully with her eyes and it had given her the appearance of curves that didn’t otherwise exist.

Jaime told himself that the stirring in his belly whenever he looked at her, whenever he heard her laugh that big loud laugh that you never would imagine coming out of someone with such a prim and proper voice at his jokes as they talked, whenever he noticed how her smile made her eyes light up in a warm softness was just the champagne going to his head. 

Blush colored her cheeks when she noticed he was still staring. Without a single word she went back into the bathroom, clothes in hand.

Jaime pursed his lips as he set the laptop aside and leaned against the pillows. No one would ever call Brienne a great beauty, but there had always been something about her look that fascinated him. Not that he would ever tell her that of course but still; there was something there. 

A minute or so later she came back out this time much more covered up in a faded blue T-shirt and baggy black sleep pants decorated with silver crescent moons.

“I’m gonna have to do laundry tomorrow,” she said without looking at him as she grabbed her laptop and sat in the armchair, pulling her feet under her. The remnants of the blush from before she went into the bathroom were still evident on her face. “This is my last clean outfit.”

“I think I’m on my last outfit too,” he admitted. “Tomorrow we’ll go shopping, get some clothes and a portable stove and mini fridge or something. I refuse to eat nothing but overpriced room service and junk for the next two weeks.”

She opened her laptop without looking at him. “You sound incredibly spoiled.”

“Call me spoiled when everyone else here is tired of eating $18 dry cheeseburgers and candy bars on the second day while you and I are feasting on nice juicy veal cutlets.”

That small little shadow of a smile again. “You’re impossible.”

“One can be impossible with a decent plate of food for dinner.”

Chuckling, she clicked something on her screen and then a moment later the Skype tone filled the tiny hotel room. 

“Hey, Brienne,” Selwyn greeted his daughter a thousand times warmer than Tywin had greeted his son. “Are you feeling alright? I heard they shut down Kingslanding.”

“I’m fine, Dad. I’m not even in Kingslanding right now, I’m in Winterfell on a business trip with Jaime.”

“How's he doing?”

“Insufferable as always,” she answered with mirth in her eyes and a smirk on her lips that had him sticking his tongue out in response.

“Oh really?” Jaime could hear the smug smile. “That’s quite the change of heart from when you had your wisdom teeth removed last month. You know I still have the video of you waking up out of anesthesia; you-.”

Brienne fumbled to plug in her headphones as quick as she could, her face burning hot with blush that traveled all the way down her neck as Jaime raised a brow at the blonde who avoided his eyes at all possible costs and was grumbling something onto her microphone. 

Jaime chuckled as he stood up from the bed, mouthed that he was going to take a shower,(she promptly

ignored him), grabbed his hygiene kit and headed into the bathroom.

Once Brienne was safe from her dad knowing the truth of their living arrangements he let himself laugh at the prospect of whatever embarrassing truth Selwyn was about to spill. He remembered when she had surgery on her wisdom teeth; Tywin refused to give him the day off so he couldn’t be there the day of the actual surgery but Selwyn was there to take care of her so he didn’t feel too bad about not being able to be there on the day of and the next day he showed up with a carton of her favorite ice cream (strawberry) and a large container full of homemade soup that he got from her favorite restaurant. 

She couldn't stand to look at him and he thought it was because of how swollen her face and jaw was and she was embarrassed. When he, in jest, asked her if she said anything embarrassing after her surgery she had gone a brilliant shade of red and quickly stammered out that she appreciated the visit but she was tired and needed rest. Then when he asked Selwyn the large blue eyed man laughed, shook his head and merely told him, “my daughter would kill me.”

He had put it out of his mind but with this new information that her stoned mutterings were targeted at him, well… Now he would have to get to the bottom of it. 

Later though. Right now he needed a shower desperately.

Brienne had far more products than he thought she would have had. Hair gel, lotion, perfume, deodorant, a hairbrush, toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash and floss all sat in a neat organized little grid on what she had claimed as her side of the sink. He set up shop on the other side; setting out his deodorant, his hair products, a bottle of orange oil cologne, his dental hygiene things, a can of shaving cream and an electric razor. The whole set up looked rather domestic, Jaime thought to himself with a tiny smile. After he stripped and climbed into the shower, he gnawed at his lip as the hot water washed over him. The residual smell of her raspberry scented body conditioner lingered heavily in the small tub. He was more than familiar with the scent by now, how could he not when they spent nearly every day together, but he never smelled it so up close or strong before. It was quite pleasant.

It was  _ very _ pleasant if he was being honest with himself. So pleasant in fact, that when he inhaled deeply, he felt his cock stir beneath the hot water. He grabbed her conditioner, flipped the top open and inhaled deeply. Jaime glanced behind him, half expecting her to burst in and demand to know what exactly he was doing, but nothing happened apart from him growing harder as the sweet smelling burgundy concoction filled the room. 

Fully aware of how insane this was, Jaime put a tiny dollop of the conditioner in his hands before he reached down and slowly stroked himself, enjoying the feel of the soft creaminess and the sweetness of its smell. As he grew hard and smooth in his caressing hand, he closed his eyes and let out a soft moan, his mind flipping though it’s normal catalogue of women, some nameless generic blonde with perky tits, his ex who for all of her faults (and she had quite a few) was the most gorgeous woman Jaime had ever seen, with golden hair and eyes as green as emeralds with picture perfect breasts that fit his hands like they were molded just for him, his favorite actress who had long yellow curls, d-cups and a voice that oozed sex...But all those failed him and he nearly faltered in his name hand. 

Jaime gnawed at his lip, grunting as he moved his hand up and down, up and down. The smell of raspberries clouded his head, the smell of  _ her  _ filled him with an ache in his stomach and his groin tightened. Instead of a made up woman or Cersei or Rhaella Targaryen; he pictured  _ her _ , and he pictured everything he would do to her _.  _ She would be all hard muscles and small tits and straw colored hair… He would buried his face in the crock of her neck as his lips would nuzzle the soft pale skin. Her deep voice would mewl and whine and whimper as his fingers rubbed between her long legs. Jaime would kiss and suck and lick her tiny breasts, the small curves easily fitting in his hand and mouth. His tongue would flick the erect pink bud and his teeth would scrape against it, making her cry out his name while her short nails would dig into the muscles in his back.

Jaime would spend a while there, on his favorite part of any woman, but eventually he would kneel between her legs and kiss and nip at her creamy thigh. Her long fingers would rake through her hair and pull as he devoured her clit, noisily slurping at her slickness and the taste would be salty and sweet and perfect. He would suck at that tiny nub, he would grab at her ass, he would push his tongue inside her until finally she would flood his mouth with that delectable creaminess and her screams could be heard throughout the whole of the city. 

He came with a loud grunt and gasp as he spilled into his hand and onto the shower floor. He rested his head against the tiled floor, taking deep breaths as the warm water cascaded over him, washing away the evidence of what he did. An air of guilt accompanied him as he grabbed his body wash and a washcloth and began to clean himself up, the masculine wood oil scent quickly, and thankfully, overtaking the lingering smell of her conditioner. He shouldn’t have done that. Brienne was his co-worker, his business partner, a friend, a professional woman who had gone to the best university and graduated with honors- she wasn’t just fodder for him to stroke himself to. Not to mention she wasn’t attractive, at least not in the traditional sense. But hadn’t he just come, rather easily at that, picturing the tall woman? 

_ It’s just because of the smell _ , Jaime told himself as he washed his hair.  _ Any guy would have done the same, it’s not my fault her hair products smell so strong. You associate it with her, that’s why you imagined her, it makes perfect sense. _

After he was done he wrapped his lower half in a towel and headed back out into the living area where Brienne had hung up on her father and was half watching some true crime documentary, half playing on her phone, still in the chair. As he gathered a set of pajamas from his suitcase, out of the corner of his eye he saw her look over at him, gnawing at her lip as she tried, and failed, to keep her brilliant blue eyes from running over him. He couldn’t help the smirk that rose to his lips as he stood and turned towards her and lowered the towel even lower so more of his perfectly formed V was showing, (totally by accident of course). Brienne quickly looked down at her phone as a blush began to rise to her skin. 

“See something you like Tarth?” he purred, and the blush deepened. Jaime chuckled before he walked back into the bathroom to get dressed. Afterwards he walked back out and flopped back down on the bed, putting his hands behind his head. He glanced over at her. Her legs were tightly curled up, barely able to fit into the tiny leather chair. “You’re really gonna make me be the asshole?”

“What do you mean?” she asked without looking up from her phone.

“You know how these things go. One bed, one guy, one girl. I’m the guy so of course I’ll be the gallant one and offers up the bed to the girl and suffer the chair. But in this case, seeing as how we’re both giants and I’m also ten years older than you, we’ll both be equally uncomfortable in that chair.”

“So how does that make you the asshole?”

“Because you’re so decent that you’d feel guilty as hell when you look over and see me silently struggling, and making you feel guilty would make me an asshole.”

Brienne shrugged. “So let me stay in the chair.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why?”

“Because then I’m a direct asshole rather than an indirect.”

That flicker of a smile he loved was back. “So what do you suggest then?”

“I’m suggesting that we share the bed.” 

And the smile was gone. 

“I-... I, Jaime, I don’t-.”

“You trust me right?” he asked, to which she answered with a rather cross look.

“You know I do.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

He sighed softly as she looked down at the carpeted floor and wrapped her arms around herself. Sometimes he forgot how shy she could really be. “I-... I don’t… It’s- it’s not you, I-.”

“Forget what I said, I‘ll take the chair,” he interrupted her stammering with a friendly smile. “I’ve slept in worse places than before.”

“You’ll be uncomfortable,” she muttered, still not looking up from him. 

“Like I said, I’ve slept in worse places. In college I fell asleep in a laundry shoot.” 

That brought forth another small smile but rather than accept the offer she just took a deep breath, stood up and made her way to the bed, laying down above the covers as far as she could without falling off the edge. Jaime raised a brow as she stared straight ahead, a blush creeping up her neck. “Try not to ravish me, Tarth.”

Her eyes went wide as she whipped towards him. “I- I would never-!” But when she saw him biting back the laugh that followed she smiled and he saw her relax into the pillow. “You’re an asshole.”

“I try,” he purred with a grin and a wink. She rolled her eyes before her brow furrowed in confusion and she leaned in close, sniffing.

“... Did you use my conditioner?”

Jaime never fought against a blush as much as he did. “Oh. Um yeah, mines almost out and you got a full bottle… do you mind?”

She shook her head and leaned back in the pillow. “Just lemme know next time.”

He choked back a laugh. “If you really want me to, Tarth.”

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